My Son

by Catherine Prater

He is solemn as the day grows long,
Yet gentle as a rose pedal floating on a
Warm breezy summer day, his eccentricity
Keeps him recluse from the rest of the world,
Yet he holds unique and distinguished ways,
Soft and low key, but when he angers,
He's like a whirlwind blowing through a long
Narrow well-housed town,
His intention is to knock them all down,
this man my child,
God has birthed through me, he is strong
Willed and yet very courageous,
Once he realize his perplexity,
There will be no boundaries.

My Son by Catherine Prater

© Copyright 2002. All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be duplicated or copied without the expressed written consent of the author.

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